R is for Rose
by dnachemlia
Summary: The investigation of an attack on one of their own sends the rest of the team on the trail of a serial killer. Written for the NFA A-Z Challenge.
1. Run

Title: **R is for Rose**

Written for the A - Z Challenge

Rating: FR 15/T

Genre: Mystery, Angst, and all that jazz

Warnings: Disturbing imagery

Disclaimer: Seriously, I still don't own anything.

Summary: The investigation of an attack on one of their own sends the rest of the team on the trail of a serial killer.

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_**Prologue - Run**_

The sky was just beginning to show a faint blush of pink when Marla Jenkins started out for her morning run. She had just finished a hellacious night at work and she was looking forward to the chance to stretch her muscles and clear her mind. After a brief warm-up, she set off along her favorite route: four miles, few hills, but some lovely scenery to appreciate along the way.

Almost a quarter of the way through her run, she saw a familiar figure approaching. She had seen this man almost every day for the past two years, yet she had never learned his name. She knew he lived in the same apartment complex that she did, as they occasionally saw each other in the lobby. She had gained the impression that he was maybe a bit on the shy side, or at least liked to keep to himself.

When they were within a few yards of each other, he smiled, nodded, and gave her a little wave. She returned the gestures as they passed one another, and after a few heartbeats she slowed, turned and looked back.

_Nice form_, she thought to herself with a smirk. _Among other things…_

Reluctantly, she returned her attention to the path ahead and resumed her normal pace. Soon she reached the half-way mark and turned back, satisfied with the level of calm she had reached during her journey. She was looking forward to a nice hot shower and the rest of her morning routine, and the troubles she had experienced only a few hours before had been swept from her mind.

As she approached the end of her run, she slowed when she noticed something odd. The grass along the sidewalk had been disturbed, and recently. She was sure it hadn't been that way when she started out. Suddenly she noticed something in the middle of the walk and when she discerned its identity, she felt her pulse quicken.

It was a single running shoe.

Her eyes followed the path beyond that solitary object and she felt her breath catch in her throat. A crumpled form was lying at the edge of the path and as she drew closer she could see rivulets of dark liquid around it, their flow halted by the deep cracks in the concrete.

Her routine completely forgotten, she opened the small pack belted around her waist and pulled out her cell phone. She pressed a number on speed dial and knelt next to the figure, tentatively reaching out her other hand to check for signs of life. As she did so, she registered the fact the person before her, despite the damage, was familiar. She let out a stream of invective at the drunken idiot who had probably caused this just before the call connected.

"_Emergency services, how may I help you?"_

"I need an ambulance, immediately. Looks like a hit and run. Massive trauma, with probable internal injuries."

"_Location?"_

"Westwood Place, NW." She looked up at the nearest street sign. "Crossroad is 15th. Just tell them to hurry. This is going to be a scoop and run."

"_Understood."_

Suddenly she noticed something and sucked in a loud breath.

"_Ma'am?"_

"Tell the police this may not have been an accident."

"_Yes, Ma'am. The ambulance is on its way."_

She put her phone down and started to do what she could for the grievously injured man, which, much to her frustration, wasn't much. She barely kept the tremor out of her voice as she tried to reassure him.

"Just hang on, buddy. Help is coming. Stay with me." She checked his pulse again and swore. "Damn it, where is that bus?"

Finally she heard the sirens in the distance. As soon as the EMTs and police arrived, she filled them in and stepped back, hoping she had done enough. The respite gave her time to really take in what she had seen, and she felt a wave of nausea that the sight of the injuries themselves had not been able to conjure.

_What would someone do this? This was deliberate, damn it! Why?_

The object that had raised her suspicions had quickly been documented _in situ_ by the first responders and was soon transferred to an evidence bag, awaiting transport and analysis. As she watched the process, Marla sincerely hoped, somehow, it would lead the investigators to the person who had done this. With a shudder, Marla closed her eyes. She didn't need the pictures to remember what she had seen. She knew that first image would stay with her for a very long time.

_Lying across the open palm of the man's pale, blood-spattered hand, a single black rose._

TBC…

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I have until November to finish this one. Bear with me...


	2. Response

Disclaimer: yeah, you know the routine by now.

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_**Chapter 1 – Response**_

Tony breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled his car into his parking space aboard the Yard. It looked like he would actually be early this morning and would avoid the wrath of Gibbs that was doled out for tardiness, which meant the day would be off to a better start than usual. He had just opened his car door when his cell phone rang. He checked the number and groaned. _So much for an easy morning._

"Yeah, Boss?"

"_Where are you?"_

"North parking lot. I just got here."

He heard an annoyed growl over the line. _"Find Ziva and get the truck. We've got a hit and run."_

"Where?" Tony asked as he pulled out his notepad.

"_Fifteen-hundred block of Westwood Place, NW."_

"That's McGee's neighborhood." Tony suddenly realized Gibbs hadn't said anything about the fourth member of the team. "He meeting us there?" He listened for a response but Gibbs had already disconnected the call. "Guess so." Tony headed for the garage as he pressed a number on his speed dial.

"_David."_

"How close are you?"

"_I am turning onto M Street. Why?"_

"Meet me at the evidence garage. We've got a call-out."

"_On my way."_

By the time Tony had the truck gassed up and ready to go, Ziva had arrived and they made quick work of the preparations before heading back out into traffic. Once they were on the road, Ziva turned to Tony.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Boss just said it was a hit and run in McGee's neighborhood. Better call him to get the lowdown before we get there."

She nodded as she pulled out her phone and dialed. She listened and a puzzled expression crossed her face. "It went straight to voicemail." She tried again, with the same result.

"Huh. Probie's breaking Rule Number Three again," Tony said with a chuckle, although an uncomfortable feeling was starting to stir in his gut.

Ziva tried McGee's home phone, which also went straight to voicemail. "Something is not right."

Tony didn't want to agree, but he was starting to reach the same conclusion. They made the rest of the trip in silence.

When they arrived at the scene, they were directed to the staging area by one of the patrol officers. They saw Gibbs speaking to a plainclothes detective, but McGee was nowhere to be found, and the worry Tony had started to feel earlier increased to full force. When they reached Gibbs, the expression on the lead agent's face confirmed Tony's fears. He glanced at Ziva and saw that she, too, understood the significance.

"What happened? Is McGee…?"

"It looks like he was hit on his way back from a run."

"An accident?"

"Doesn't look like it. The perp left a souvenir at the scene."

"Damn it. Where…?"

"They took him to University Hospital, Shock-Trauma unit. Ducky's on his way to keep an eye on him, and I'm headed over there after I finish interviewing the witness."

Tony glanced at the indicated figure, a woman dressed in running attire, standing off to the side with her arms crossed protectively over her chest and watching them warily. In a normal situation he would have tried to flirt, but this was anything but normal.

"How bad, Boss?"

"Bad." He turned to Ziva. "You two need to get everything you can, and fast. I want this son of a bitch caught."

"Yes, Gibbs." She blinked a few times and took a deep breath. "We should get to work."

Tony took one last look at his boss and followed Ziva back to the truck to retrieve their equipment. He tried to tell himself that it really couldn't be as bad as they first thought but when he saw the amount of blood left behind on the sidewalk, he felt his gorge rise.

_God, Tim…_

He glanced at Ziva and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be OK. Probie's tough."

"I wish I could believe that. I know that McGee is resilient, but…" Her gaze traveled to the single running shoe, still sitting in the middle of the path. "I cannot imagine how…_horrible_ this must have been for him."

"Yeah, I know…"

Pushing his worry and fear for his teammate down into the recesses of his mind, Tony got to work, photographing and sketching the scene, while Ziva bagged and tagged what little evidence they could find. After they had finished, she spoke with one of the local officers and was directed to the evidence they had collected before McGee was taken to the hospital. When the two agents saw the "souvenir" they shared a worried glance.

"A black rose…you do not think this has anything to do with…?"

"Abby? God, I hope not. She's going to—"

"Who's Abby?"

They both turned to find a rather plain-looking middle aged man standing just behind the barrier, watching them.

"I have a better question," snapped Tony. "Who are you?"

"Agent Coulson."

Tony let out a bark of humorless laughter. "Oh, let me guess: from the Strategic Homeland—"

"FBI." He showed them his badge and then flipped the divider to show his ID card. "Behavioral Analysis Unit."

_Oh crap._

"You're a profiler?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"So…just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought you'd stop by to lend a hand?"

"The detective in charge called me. This isn't the first attack like this we've seen." He pointed to the rose. "Killer's signature. Who's Abby?" he asked again.

"Our forensic scientist," Ziva replied. "She has a fondness for this type of flower."

Coulson raised an eyebrow.

"She's a Goth. Comes with the territory," added Tony. "What else can you tell us about-?"

"Nothing I'd want to say here. I need to call my team but we can meet at your headquarters. I think I need to speak with this 'Abby'. Does she have any relationship to the victim?"

Tony felt a brief surge of anger. "They're friends. I don't think I like what you're suggesting, Coulson."

"Comes with the territory," he replied with a faint smirk.

The two NCIS agents shared a look. "I will call Gibbs," said Ziva. "He may have news on McGee." She turned and walked away as she pulled out her cell phone. Tony returned his attention to Coulson.

"How many? You said this wasn't the first."

"Six deaths so far. This is the first time we've had a victim that didn't die before help arrived. We'll need to speak to Mr. McGee if he survives."

"When _Agent_ McGee recovers, I'll be sure to let him know you want to chat." He noticed Ziva return and turned to her. "Well?"

"Gibbs said that McGee is in surgery, but he has not yet heard anything more. Ducky… documented McGee's injuries and Palmer is on his way to the hospital to retrieve the evidence and bring it back to the Yard."

Tony could see that she was holding something back, but knew she would tell him once they were alone.

"Well, you know where to find us, Coulson," said Tony as he started to pack away their equipment. "Thanks for the heads up."

The man just stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and walked away.

"Man, I hate profilers," he commented as he tried, unsuccessfully, to lighten the mood and cover his own anxiety. "Always trying their Jedi mind tricks out on you." Ziva said nothing. After they finished packing the truck and had climbed into the cab, he turned to her. "What's wrong?"

"Gibbs said it looks as if McGee was hit by a high-profile vehicle, probably an SUV. We should get on that as soon as…" She trailed off, tears shining in her eyes.

"Ziva?"

She took a deep breath and managed to regain most of her composure. "They are not sure…they do not know for certain if McGee will survive the surgery. There was a great deal of damage, and…they lost him twice already, once in the ambulance and once in the ER."

"I told you, Ziva, Probie's tough. He's a fighter. Had to be to put up with us all these years, right?"

"I…I really hope so."

"Come on. Let's get this stuff back to the lab. If anyone can figure this out…"

"Abby will."

"But that means one of us will have to tell her…"

"Yeah, I know. Not looking forward to that conversation." He started the engine and guided the truck back towards the yard. His thoughts were on his teammate and the question of how things could have gone so wrong, so fast.

TBC…

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Did y'all get Tony's movie reference? ;)


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